


Us

by TrueIllusion



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Canon Compliant, Christmas, David Rose Loves Patrick Brewer, David Rose is a Good Person, Domestic Fluff, Future Fic, Happy Ending, Holidays, Light Angst, M/M, Married Life, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:07:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27495445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrueIllusion/pseuds/TrueIllusion
Summary: Exhaling a soft sigh, Patrick began wrapping the ornaments back up, one by one, putting them back in the box for safe keeping. He appreciated his mom’s intent, and hedidwant to find a way to display them, but he wasn’t quite sure yet what that would look like, or how he’d do that when it seemed like David already had a plan for every corner of the house. For now,  he’d put the box in the top of the closet and work on figuring out how to make them fit in; after all, he had plenty of time.***Marcy sends a box of ornaments from Patrick's childhood just before his and David's first Christmas in their new home. Knowing they won't fit in with David's aesthetic, Patrick hides the box without showing it to him. What happens when David discovers them?
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 54
Kudos: 205
Collections: Numerous OTPS Infinite Fandoms, Schitt's Creek: Frozen Over (2020)





	Us

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SCFrozenOver2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCFrozenOver2020) collection. 



> Thank you to A and T for beta reading for me, and, as always, for the encouragement and friendship. Fandom has brought some amazing people into my life, and for that I am incredibly grateful. Happy holidays to you and yours! <3

“I’m pretty sure they’re evenly spaced, David,” Patrick said, trying to conceal his amusement as he watched his husband straighten the neat row of mason jars at the front of their seasonal display table for the thousandth time. Each jar was filled with homemade hot chocolate mix and adorned with a red ribbon attaching a small package of peppermint candy stir sticks. They were a cute, grab-and-go gift item that Patrick hoped would sell well as people started their holiday shopping.

It was hard to believe that it was almost Christmas -- that he and David were married and living in their very own home. They were well on their way to making it feel like home too, now that all of the boxes were finally unpacked. The tasteful fall seasonal display David had assembled by the front door had served them well for Halloween and its accompanying trick-or-treaters -- less than a dozen, which wasn’t surprising given that their house was on a rural road that wasn’t exactly safe for pedestrians. David didn’t seem at all disappointed by that, since it meant that he got to eat most of the candy himself. The holiday David seemed most excited about, though, was Christmas.

He’d been sketching out designs and creating mood boards for holiday decor since their final few days in Patrick’s studio apartment -- from the tastefully outfitted Christmas tree that would sit by the living room window to the natural pine garland that would drape just perfectly over the mantle of the stone fireplace, framing a beautiful gold menorah. David had spent even more time on his plans for the cottage than for the store, which told Patrick exactly how much David was looking forward to it. Given that, Patrick wasn’t at all surprised when David was ready to start bringing both of his masterpieces to life as soon as October gave way to November.

“I know, but I just…” David paused, biting his lip as he looked up and drew his hands back from the table. “I want it all to be _perfect_ , you know?”

“And it will be.” Patrick rounded the counter, coming up behind David and wrapping his arms around David’s waist. He planted a soft kiss on the side of David’s neck before resting his chin on David’s shoulder, feeling the tension melt out of his husband’s body as he leaned into Patrick’s touch. “When have you ever designed anything that was less than perfect?”

David turned in Patrick’s arms, his face pinched into a skeptical expression as he draped his arms over Patrick’s shoulders and tilted his gaze up toward the ceiling. “Well, there _was_ that time that I was hired to decorate Lindsay Lohan’s summer home for a Fourth of July bash, and… let’s just say that sparklers, crepe paper, and recreational drugs don’t mix.”

Patrick laughed and shook his head, still every bit as in-awe of David’s past life as he was every time he heard a snippet from it. Sometimes it was hard to reconcile the David he knew with the one who had once gallivanted all over Hollywood and New York City, bouncing from one high-class social event to another. Sure, the David he knew still had discerning taste, but just about every other aspect of ‘past David’ was very, very different from the David he’d married. Past David had moved from one brief, vapid relationship to another, seeking commitment and fulfillment from people who were apparently only interested in one-night stands. As a result, past David had carefully guarded his tender heart with an armor of designer sweaters and bored standoffishness, never letting anyone know the real him for fear of getting hurt, the way he had so many times before. Present David, however, often wore his heart on his sleeve because he _could_ \-- because he was safe here, with Patrick, in Schitt’s Creek.

“Noted,” Patrick said seriously, pulling David in closer for a kiss. “Still. I know you’re going to do a great job.”

“Mmm… that’s assuming my numbers guy approves the budget I submitted.” David’s voice was soft, and one corner of his mouth tilted up into the tiniest smirk as his dark eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Well, he did have a few revisions… but I think on the whole, you’ll be pleased.” Patrick smiled and pressed another soft kiss to David’s lips. “So long as you weren’t planning on surprising him with a plan to have a live reindeer photo op at the store or anything like that.”

David pulled away, his neck wrinkling as he drew his chin back. “God, no. Live reindeer in the store would most certainly be _incorrect_.”

“Although…” Patrick let his voice trail off as he tried to suppress the teasing grin that was already playing at the corners of his lips. “That could be a great opportunity to get more kids into the store. Just think of the smile on Roland Junior’s face when he sees a real, live reindeer for the very first time.”

“No. No. Just… no.” David shook his head vehemently, his brows drawn together as his disgust morphed into outright revulsion, his hands moving in broad circles. “There will be _none_ of _that_.”

“Don’t worry, David.” Patrick smoothed the shoulders of David’s sweater with his hands and smiled. “I promise, no reindeer. No pictures with Santa. No ornament-making workshops for kids. Our holiday events will remain firmly 18-and-up.”

“Thank you.” David raised his eyebrows and nodded. “And, for the record, if you’ll remember, the wine tasting and cookie swap was our most profitable day of quarter four last year, with absolutely no children present.”

“Oooh, listen to you, using actual business terms… and yes, I remember. That’s why we’re hosting two this year. And ordering more wine.”

They had a full slate of special events lined up throughout the second half of November and most of December, including a holiday-themed open mic night, a ‘sip and paint’ combination wine tasting and painting class, and of course, the cookie swap, which was hands-down David’s favorite. David was content to let Twyla host all of the kid-themed holiday events at the Cafe, and although Patrick hoped he might someday be able to convince David that kids had parents with money, that was a battle he’d decided to save for another time.

David had finally moved on from the hot chocolate jars to the gift baskets of goat milk soap and lotion when Roland came in, prompting David to suddenly remember he had some more products to unpack in the back room, leaving Patrick to deal with Roland alone. Patrick didn’t mind so much, though -- Roland was annoying, sure, but he did spend a lot of money on foot cream and massage oil, the latter of which neither David nor Patrick wished to imagine its intended use. This time, however, Roland was there on business -- dropping off a truckload of fresh greenery from his cousin Jack’s tree farm.

The anticipated arrival was the entire reason why Patrick was at the store on a Thursday -- normally, it was Patrick’s day off and David worked solo. But with a sticky, manual-labor-oriented delivery scheduled, Patrick had decided to come in for a half-day, and David certainly hadn’t complained. Once Roland and Patrick had the back of Roland’s truck unloaded -- and Patrick had learned more than he ever wanted to know about Jocelyn’s sister’s impending divorce -- Patrick decided to head home for the day, leaving David to work on the decorations.

Meanwhile, Patrick was looking forward to spending the rest of his day doing one of his favorite things: building a fire in the fireplace, then curling up on the couch with a blanket and some tea and getting started on the novel he’d borrowed from the Elm County library over the weekend. He was already mulling over what flavor of tea he wanted to brew as he stepped up to the front door, so lost in his thoughts that he nearly tripped over a large box sitting on the stoop.

As he bent down to pick it up, he noticed it was from his parents, which immediately piqued his curiosity. It seemed a bit early for Christmas gifts, and his mom usually let him know if she had something special to send, so it was odd for a package to just… show up.

Brow furrowed, Patrick carried the box into the kitchen, setting it down on the table before briefly turning his attention to the tea kettle, filling it up with water and putting it on the stove to boil. His myriad of flavored teas forgotten for the moment, Patrick opened the junk drawer and picked up the box cutter, carefully slicing open the tape on the box before opening the flaps, revealing a neatly folded piece of red tissue paper and a green envelope bearing his and David’s names.

He slid his finger under the seal, pulling out a notecard that he knew was handmade, that Marcy had probably stamped herself at one of the cardmaking parties his Aunt Sandra hosted once a month. Patrick settled into a chair as he opened the card to reveal his mom’s neat script.

_Dear Patrick and David,_

_We hope this finds both of you well and settling nicely into married life -- and life as homeowners. We're so very proud of you. As you start your life together and build your own holiday traditions, we thought you might like to have a little piece of Patrick’s childhood -- or a few little pieces -- to add to your holiday decor._

_Much love to you both,  
Mom and Dad_

Setting the card aside, Patrick lifted the tissue paper to reveal a small collection of Christmas ornaments, each one in its own compartment of a cardboard grid, with several wrapped in bubble wrap for even more protection.

One by one, Patrick started unwrapping them, feeling like he was unveiling a small piece of his childhood with each new ornament. While there were a few store-bought offerings, including a 1987 “Baby’s First Christmas” ornament and a couple of personalized miniature hockey and baseball players bearing his name, Patrick knew that most of what was in that box had been handmade by someone in his family. His Nana Taylor had a longstanding tradition of making ornaments every year with her grandchildren -- a tradition that had begun with Patrick’s mother and aunts a generation before and was now continuing with her great-grandchildren.

Patrick gently ran his finger over the edge of a set of teal felt turtle doves with sequined wings -- a favorite of his growing up, because it was so different and he loved the color. Of course, there were also plenty of snowmen and teddy bears constructed of various materials, and a couple of clothespin reindeer with tiny red pom-pom noses. He remembered making the popsicle stick Christmas trees with his mom, and sitting around Nana’s table with his cousins, carefully painting hearts on muslin angels using a stencil.

Patrick was unwrapping the last ornament -- a homemade, shellacked gingerbread man -- when the teapot started whistling, jarring him out of his reverie. As he added some caramel brulee tea to his infuser and set it aside to steep, he found his thoughts wandering once again to Christmases past -- those spent with his family, and those spent with Rachel. How different his life had been back then. When he was younger, life had felt so simple, when the only real expectation laid out for him was that he minded his parents and got good grades in school. Then, as he got older, things started to get more complicated -- especially when he went to university and his relatives started asking him at every holiday, always with a wink, when he and Rachel were going to get married. Patrick had never been able to put his finger on why those questions felt so uncomfortable for him, aside from feeling like his family was meddling in his private life. And, well, they were meddling, but that didn’t explain why the questions often made him feel physically sick. Now, he knew why. And he’d finally found his peace in Schitt’s Creek, with David.

Once his tea was finished steeping, Patrick removed the infuser and set it in the sink to cool before bringing his mug back to the table, still a little lost in his thoughts. He was excited to be spending the holidays with David again this year, this time in their own home, and although he knew he should have been just as excited to share his memories with David via the ornaments, he also knew there was no way they’d ever fit in with David’s aesthetic. He knew how thrilled David was to have total control, with no regard for damage deposits or pesky landlords, and with more space than just a single room to decorate. He’d also seen David’s sketches -- their clean lines and simple, consistent color schemes, all with a very modern sensibility -- and knew there was no room for a kitschy “Baby’s First Christmas 1987” ornament or a clothespin Rudolph.

Exhaling a soft sigh, Patrick began wrapping the ornaments back up, one by one, putting them back in the box for safe keeping. He appreciated his mom’s intent, and he _did_ want to find a way to display them, but he wasn’t quite sure yet what that would look like, or how he’d do that when it seemed like David already had a plan for every corner of the house. For now, he’d put the box in the top of the closet and work on figuring out how to make them fit in; after all, he had plenty of time.

***

A couple of weeks later, David’s visions for both the store as well as their cottage were starting to come together, with greenery hung and adorned by just the right shades of jewel-toned baubles and gold ribbon. Roland’s cousin Jack had dropped off their order of trees before the store opened, and Patrick had spent the first half of his morning attempting to organize a tree display on the sidewalk in front of the store, while David decorated the tree he’d personally selected for the front window.

Rose Apothecary’s signature sand-and-stone color palette carried over to David’s holiday decorations as well, and he’d chosen to outfit the tree with warm white LED lights, plus ornaments in black, gold, ivory, and silver. Truth be told, Patrick spent most of his time outside watching David through the window -- how he’d tug his lower lip into his mouth and cock his head to the side to make sure everything looked just so, and the painstaking way with which he chose exactly the right spot for each ornament, accounting of course for even size and color distribution for the quintessential viewing experience.

Patrick had never in his life spent as much time decorating a Christmas tree as David spent decorating that one, and he knew David would probably spend even more time on the one they’d be bringing home to the cottage -- after all, he’d asked for the entire day off once he’d found out when the trees were coming in. The timing wasn’t the best, since it would leave Patrick alone at the store on a Friday, but Patrick could see how excited David was to finally decorate their very own tree -- the centerpiece of his plans for their holiday decor -- so Patrick had reluctantly agreed. And honestly, the shy smile on David’s face as he’d said “thank you” and the borderline-inappropriate-for-work kiss Patrick had gotten afterward made it worth it.

After Patrick leaned the last tree up against the rudimentary display stand he’d built the week before, he brushed off his hands and joined David inside. He knew full-well that he probably wouldn’t be permitted to touch any of David’s decorations, so he took a seat at the counter with his laptop and opened their budget spreadsheet, eager to get started on projections for the new year. At least then he’d be doing something productive while he enjoyed watching his husband hang ornaments.

“Did I ever tell you about the year my mother wanted our entire tree decorated in nothing but 24-karat gold-dipped emu feathers?” David asked, without looking up from his current task of finding just the right spot for the gold ornament in his hand.

“Nope, don’t think you have,” Patrick said, hitting save on his spreadsheet before closing the laptop and coming out from behind the counter, his arms finding their natural position around David’s waist as he peered over David’s shoulder at the tree. “Please tell me you weren’t thinking of adding some to this one, because I’m not sure the budget can handle it.”

“God, no.” David shuddered in Patrick’s arms. “That’s definitely one thing I do not miss about our old life… those fucking parties were the worst. Pasting on a fake smile and schmoozing with Dad’s business associates, watching them fall all over themselves to kiss his ass. And the themed trees in every room. I mean, jungle animals on a pine tree… _incorrect_. And don’t even ask me about the Rockettes-themed tree she put in my bedroom one year… I had nightmares for _weeks_. Hundreds of dolls, and all those beady little eyes staring at me.” Patrick felt a shiver run through David’s body at the memory, prompting him to press a comforting kiss to his husband’s cheek before letting him go.

“No dolls, then… got it.” Patrick chuckled as he picked up one of two remaining silver glass ball ornaments. “Where do you want this one?”

David hummed as he appraised the situation for a few seconds before pointing to a bare branch between a large, glittery black ornament and a satin-finished ivory one that was almost as big. Patrick hung his ornament while David picked up the last one and hung it on the opposite side of the tree before standing back to give the finished product one last look.

“Looks good,” Patrick said, reaching out to wrap his arms around David’s waist, pulling their bodies closer together.

One side of David’s mouth quirked upward just slightly into the shy smile that would never fail to melt Patrick’s heart. “Thanks,” he whispered.

“I can’t wait to see what you do with ours.” Patrick stood on tiptoe and kissed David again, this time on the lips.

David’s smile broadened as their lips parted, his eyes twinkling. “Oh, I’ve got big plans.”

***

The next morning, Patrick gave a goodbye kiss to a still-sleeping David before heading out to the store alone. It felt strange to do that on a Friday when David’s normal day off was Wednesday, but there was just something about the quiet solitude of running the store by himself that Patrick enjoyed sometimes. Sure, there would be customers to take care of, especially on a Friday, but Patrick figured he’d still have plenty of time to work on the books and put in extra orders for a few seasonal items that had already been selling well.

The universe, however, had other plans, and Patrick spent the morning barely able to squeeze in a spare moment to call Heather and place an order for the cheeses that were running low, much less make any other calls or even _look_ at the books. He got a bit of a reprieve after lunch, but Jocelyn quickly put an end to it when she showed up to “do a little Christmas shopping” and instead spent the better part of an hour talking his ear off while he unwrapped canvases for Saturday’s sip and paint workshop. By the time Patrick had all of the painting supplies sorted, he knew way too much about Jocelyn’s sister’s soon-to-be-ex husband -- who sounded like a real piece of work -- and he was more than ready to finish the afternoon’s work so he could go home.

Two hours later, after finally locking the door and flipping the sign to “closed,” Patrick lugged the boxes of supplies upstairs to their fledgling event space -- which David had said the town desperately needed, and Patrick had to agree he was right. It was still very much a work-in-progress, but they’d already made some extra money renting it out for a couple of birthday parties and a baby shower, and were about to make even more with the ability to host holiday parties and of course, their own special events. Once Patrick had the table set up and a canvas on every easel, he made his way back downstairs, where he quickly counted down the drawer and stashed the cash in the safe, eager to head home to his husband.

Patrick spent the entire drive between downtown and their cottage thinking about how much he was looking forward to spending the evening on the couch next to David, with a fire in the fireplace, probably watching whatever holiday romcom David had declared “essential viewing” for that night. After parking the car, Patrick picked up the takeout bag containing their dinner from the passenger seat, more than ready to get started on a relaxing night with his husband.

As Patrick walked into the kitchen and set the bag down on the counter, he could see David through the doorway that led to the living room, standing on tiptoe as he leaned forward to hang an ornament on the tree. When David stepped back, Patrick was surprised to see that the ornament he’d been hanging was a clothespin reindeer with a tiny, red pompom nose.

The closer Patrick got to the tree, the more ornaments he recognized -- his favorite set of felt turtle doves, the snowmen, and the popsicle stick Christmas trees. All of them. All of the ornaments his mom had sent were now displayed prominently on their tree, interspersed with jewel-toned glass ornaments of varying shapes and sizes that somehow tied everything together beautifully. David’s gold menorah sat in the center of the mantle, surrounded by fresh greenery adorned with tiny white lights and sprays of purple, teal, and gold baubles, and the fire Patrick had been looking forward to building in the fireplace was already burning brightly, casting a warm glow over their living room rug.

“Hi,” David said softly, his lips pulling to one side in a shy smile as he looked up at Patrick. “How was your day?”

All but ignoring David’s question, Patrick came closer to the tree, his fingers finding their way to the “Baby’s First Christmas” ornament, hanging near a miniature hockey player emblazoned with his name. “David, you… How’d you know about these?”

“I found the box in the top of the closet. Last week, when I was looking for my cashmere scarf. Why didn’t you tell me about them?”

Patrick shrugged, not quite able to look David in the eye. “I guess I wasn’t sure they’d fit in. You were so excited to decorate, and I…” He paused and let out a breath, his gaze moving downward still, to the floor between their feet. “I didn’t want to mess up your plans.”

“Honey…” David stepped forward, closing the gap between them as he reached out for Patrick’s hand. “This tree is _ours_. It should be _us_ , not just me. These ornaments are a part of you. They’re your memories. They fit. They’ll always fit.”

Blinking back tears, Patrick brought his gaze back up to meet David’s, which was soft and warm and full of love. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as David tugged him closer, pulling him into a hug.

The sensation of David’s strong arms around his shoulders made it even harder for Patrick to hold back his emotions, and he stifled a sob as David’s fingers found their way to the nape of his neck, gently stroking the short hairs there as he held Patrick close. “It’s _us_ , honey,” David whispered. “Always us. I want it to be us.”

Patrick nodded, his face still buried in David’s shoulder as a rogue tear slipped down his cheek. David released him, using his thumb to wipe away the tear before taking Patrick’s hands and leading him over to the sofa. “Now, I have a feeling that most of these ornaments have a story,” David said, sitting down next to Patrick before wrapping an arm around him, the tips of his fingers tracing tiny circles over Patrick’s shoulder. “Will you tell me about them?”

Biting his lip as he let out a breath, Patrick nodded, then smiled up at David -- the love of his life and the one man he was certain would never stop impressing him with his sensitivity, his perceptiveness, and his unparalleled ability to always make everything okay. The man he couldn’t wait to create new holiday memories with.

“I’d love to.”


End file.
